


Invading Space

by Awwnutbunnies



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Random fluff and bickering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 14:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16243199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awwnutbunnies/pseuds/Awwnutbunnies
Summary: Old ficlet from TumblrSet in season 2: just how DID Harry know Cisco could pull other people onto his vibes?





	Invading Space

The workshop was his sanctuary.

The room was dark, crowded. And there were projects in nearly every corner, some finished, some barely begun. Tools were scattered everywhere in a pattern recognizable only to himself. And that was how he liked it.. Star Labs had been infiltrated by any number of liars and murderers the last couple of years; was built by a psychopath. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people had worked in this building, traveled through the halls.

But the workshop was his.

It had been hulled out after the explosion. Once a storage room for files and paperwork. Thawne-wells had given it to him. Ostensibly to keep him close and keep an eye on him with his creepy stalker cams. But the room was his, filled and set up exactly to his design. No one came in here, no one got in the way of his work. He could come here, and work in silence, or with music that suited his moods, and didn’t have to deal with anyone else.

At least, that was how it had been.

Lately, his tools, rather than scattered to his liking, would be put away neatly. His playlist of the day would be swapped out with some sort of 70s R&B hit that would be entirely the wrong mood for work. Scattered papers would be gathered and organized, carefully set aside.

It was maddening. But worst of all was the second presence in his sanctuary. A lingering shadow. The sound of tools across the room, or a marker against the white board interrupting the otherwise quiet of the room or the music of his own work.

It rattled under his skin, frazzling his nerves. He’d worked with other people before. Ronnie, and even Hartley, and he had tolerated it. But it grated.

“You’ve calibrated it wrong.”

That mother fucker.

It was one thing to tolerate another presence in his workshop, but to have him nag all the time. Inserting his own opinion where it wasn’t asked for. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

“No. I didn’t. It’s exactly to spec.” He gritted out, focusing hard on the readings from the power grid he was tweaking. It would be the core power source of a glove that he’d been working on. One that would, hopefully, help him control and shape vibrations more successfully than he had been. By accident was hardly reliable. And using them just for vibing wasn’t really enough anymore. Opening breaches, fighting bad guys. There were so many options. So many potential applications. But it seemed like the enemies that crawled out of the woodwork kept getting stronger. He needed to be stronger too, to help Barry.

A familiar shadow settled over him. He had long since stopped associating that presence with evil time-traveling sociopaths, and instead simply associated it with the most annoying man on the planet.

He wasn’t even surprised when an outrageously arrogant pair of hands came into his field of view, attempting to change the parameters he’d just finished adjusting.

“If you do it this way, it will increase the power output.

Because it was Harry, because he was as brilliant as he was irritating, Cisco took the time to assess the change, process it, then immediately undid the man’s work.

“And overload the wiring, not to mention potentially blow off my hand. No thanks.”

He almost savored the moment of affronted silence as Harry stared at him, then down at the prototype in front of him before taking off his glasses. There was a drawn out moment as he rubbed the bridge of his nose before pushing them back into place.

”Not if you route the power through a secondary chip and divert it.”

The unbelievable bastard pulled a screwdriver out of god only knew where, brandishing it like a weapon. He nudged Cisco’s chair out of the way, sending him rolling. He took a moment to just stare at the man’s back, processing the sheer gall. Dude came butting his way into his workshop, taking over his space. Listening to whatever music he wanted. Even cleaning up his stuff. And now he was just taking over his projects?

Hell no.

“Excuse you. No one ever asked you to butt in and take over my work.”

“You’re welcome.”

He had a new understanding for a how a tea kettle felt right before it blew. The sound of frustration he made was dangerously similar.

“Yeah, well, you’re not. So step off my gloves.”

When the man made no move to stop his alterations, he grabbed for his shoulder to pull him off. He didn’t want him to do too much damage. Or worse, improve them. But whatever he was going to say was lost when the shock of a vision overtook him, and he staggered back.

He would never get used to the feeling, he was sure, of going under. And he was only vaguely aware of his own body, tripping over one of the legs of his chair as he backed up. And Harry’s hand grabbing his own to keep him from landing on his ass.

Then he was completely in the vision, and he was running. The halls of Star Labs looked the same as always, but they were dark, and the threat of something dangerous was hot on his heels.

Correction: Their heels.

It took him a few moments of adjusting to the new situation to realize that he wasn’t running alone. His hand was held tightly in Harry’s, whose longer stride kept him a few paces ahead.

Rounding a familiar turn, they slipped through the doorway into the Time Vault, and the wall solidified behind them. For a moment they only gasped for breath, still clinging to one another’s hands.

“Did we lose `em?” his own voice echoed a little oddly in his ears. And part of him was aware of being a spectator in his own mind.

“Only for a little while. They’ll find us eventually.” the grim finality in Harry’s tone caused a knot to lodge itself in his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was his own fingers, or Harry’s, that shifted first, lacing their hands together. But the effect was the same either way.

He clung tightly for a moment, catching his breath, and struggled to find his voice.

“Harry…”

The man looked older, now that he looked at him. Time and strain having taken their toll. If he had a mirror, he was sure he would see changes in his own face and body.

“If we don’t make it out of here…. You… you know I…” He couldn’t seem to find the words. But apparently he didn’t need to. Harry moved in closer, one hand bracing against the wall, the other still gripping 

Thin, chapped lips found his own,and warmth filled his gut. Abstract feeling came and went. Desire, happiness, fear, and regret for waiting so long. Followed by the determination to survive so that this wouldn’t be the only time.

Then the fleeting touch passed and he was staring up into startlingly blue eyes.

“I know.”

He barely caught the sound of explosions in the background before the vision faded, and he was back in his own body. But the electric blue eyes in front of him were still there.

It took a moment for his mind to settle, to return to the here and now, but the racing of his heart wouldn’t ease. The sense of being in danger faded, but there was another, more pervasive feeling lingering.

Harry looked about as shell-shocked as he felt, which was different and new. And a little terrifying given what he had just seen.

“D-did you just see that?” He managed, a slight squeak in his tone.

Harry leaned against the table for support, rubbing at his mouth the way he did when he was at a loss, or overwhelmed. The fact that Cisco had come to understand his subtle gestures was actually a little unsettling. They’d been in each other’s space for months now, but that was crazy obsessive detail.

“Direct, prolonged contact allows someone to see your vibes. Interesting.”

“Interesting?” He prayed his voice wasn’t as shrill as it sounded in his ears. “Not the word I would have gone for.”

He started to back up, and reach for his chair. He really wanted to sit down, and his legs felt weak. But something finally caught his attention that held him firm.

Harry was still holding onto his hand.

He looked down at it, then back up at the man, swallowing hard. He could see amusement come into the bastard’s gaze, daring him to mention it, or jerk his hand away.

His cheeks flamed with color, but he cleared his throat.

“Uh, you can let go now.”

Harry’s hand was uncomfortably warm, with those long, thin fingers wrapped securely around his own, and it drew the vision back clearly in his mind. The feeling of dry lips pressed against his own, and those fleeting feelings that had passed through him that he didn’t want to identify.

And of course it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he’d been about to say in that classic ‘if we never have another chance’ moment.

He was starting to suspect Harry was actually some sort of futuristic robot with really twitchy AI, because the man wasn’t even blinking as he stared at him. He could practically envision gears turning in his head.

How could this asshole be so damn calm? 

He finally pulled his hand back out of Harry’s grip, and was horrified that he missed the warmth almost immediately. “You… we were… That—“ He came up short, finally just shaking his head. “You know what? Nope. Not gonna do it. I am not mentally prepared for this conversation today.”

“There is a god.” Harry’s tone was dry as dust. It was baffling that some part of him enjoyed that. But then, he’d always been a sucker for well-delivered sarcasm.

“I’m going up to the cortex.” Away from the small confines of the workshop that no longer felt so safe and secure.

“Bye.”

“And don’t touch my gloves!”


End file.
